The Daunting Crack of Air
by Mina1914
Summary: During another of their weekly Sessions, Francis is bound down not only by the restraining ropes, but by his controlling Master. But who said he didn't enjoy it?


**Warning:** Sexual violence, uh cumshot if that sort of thing grosses you out, UKFr

**A/N: **Just a thing...yeah it was meant to be a little fic ask (regarding Tumblr) for my friend but I got too lazy to finish it...back in like October...Enjoy!

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As he had anticipated, Francis woke in darkness.

He had woken with a start, snapping into reality. Looking around, he noticed that he couldn't look around. As of routine, the exorbitant leather blindfold rested over the bridge of his nose, and wrapped around his head, shielding the gift of vision. And upon making a soft noise, it was muffled by a strip of duct tape that was pressing into the skin around his lips tightly. He could also feel something in his ears - ear plugs, he was assuming.

Already, his heart was racing. He furrowed his brow as he fiddled with his hands, feeling the rope dig into his wrists and fingers. The rope was even binding his fingers together. How precise, it was so like Master.

He hummed against the duck tape as he sought to stand, but his legs were forced and secured down by straps, holding him down into a sitting position - on his shins. When he leaned forward, the rope binding his arms tightened around them, stopping him from bending down. He realized rope was dancing around the skin of his chest as well, trapping him intricately. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose.

And, he was sitting on a curved surface, that fit perfectly between his thighs. He knew what it was instantly, and felt a thrill run through him.

When he felt the faint vibration of feet on floor, he stilled. Sitting straight like a ruler, he tensed up. He remained calm, breathing quietly but rushed through his nose.

The first thing he felt was breath. Breath ghosting over his cheeks. He shivered. When a hand met the back of his head, the fingers threading into the long locks of his hair, he remained still. But when the fingers clenched into a fist and harshly tugged his head back, revealing his neck, he inhaled sharply through his nose. He shifted in his position, and breathed raggedly.

Another hand met his cheek - but it was just a simple caress. The fingers rested over his skin, and then he felt the pads of the fingertips move up his cheek, and then down again to go around his jawline, under his ear and into his hair.

His voice betrayed him and made a muffled sound against the duct tape. He felt the hand in his hair pull harder, and the gentler hand move down his neck, dragging nails as it went. It traveled down to his collar bone and then stopped.

Suddenly, he heard a distant hush of a voice.

If it was Master speaking, Francis wanted to know what he was saying. But there was no use to wish, being in the position he was, so he dismissed the want and focused on the sensations. He preferred to have no ability to respond, or to move. He could only feel, and that's what he preferred. And each touch was more pronounced.

When a gentle kiss was pressed to his cheek - perhaps reassuring, he felt his ears flush a little, growing hot. Even if they never really went over the gentleness of what they did, Master had a trait of being loving at some times. Francis didn't mind it.

But then the hands left him suddenly, Francis dropping his head (his neck hurting from being strained), and he felt empty. He panted through his nose for a moment, just simply waiting for more. After a minute or two of nothing, he began to fidget with impatience.

As if Master read his mind, he felt the constant vibration beneath him. He moaned lightly against the tape, feeling the leather of the seat thrum against his inner thighs and his balls. Instantly, more blood flowed into his half-erect penis, resulting in it to flush a light pink.

He fidgeted in his position, the seat between his thighs continuing to vibrate. When he felt a sudden swat to his lower back, he jumped as much as the bindings would allow, and made a shocked noise. He could feel the skin throb.

Three more hits met his back. Francis arched his spine in pain and clenched his toes, his eyes screwing shut behind the blindfold. Stinging remained in his skin.

Then he felt footsteps move around him before he felt the tip of what he had guess to be a riding crop prod up against the bottom of his chin, making his head rise. He heard faint murmurs of words, before the leather of the riding crop patted his cheek a few times. He was panting now, his face flushed. Apparently, Master was being gentler than usual.

Francis could feel the uncomfortable need-to-orgasm slight swelling of his red cock, the head wet. The vibrations of the seat made him feel numb, but at least it added stimulation.

He sucked in a ragged breath when the riding crop suddenly moved down to trail up against his erection. As if Master was reading his concerns. Francis bucked his hips lightly and made a weak noise.

His saliva had escaped his lips, and now was getting between the tape and his skin, soaking uncomfortably. He hated tape gags. He preferred ball gags or dental gags, but at least it did it's duty - forbidding any speaking. Master had a thing for silence, apparently.

His thoughts were ripped away from him when another hit of the riding crop reddened the inside of his thigh, Francis' legs trembling. He restrained his noises as a few more marked his biceps and forearms.

You see, Master had..action swings during these sessions. Like mood swings, but with his actions. One moment he would be rough and demanding, and the other nice and caring.

Even if he was used to it, Francis was surprised when he felt hands hurriedly hold the sides of his head, and lips kiss his forehead and cheeks and over the blindfold. He felt the lips press over the duct tape as well, but it was more prolonged than the other pecks. The ghosted kiss lasted a moment, before the lips left and a hand was grasping his hair and yanking his head back. A mouth attacked his neck - biting, kissing, and sucking. He was breathing ragged breaths through his nose as Master ravaged the skin of his neck, especially over his jugular. It made him edgy - concerned if he was going to bite. But Master was probably just doing it to tease him.

When he was suddenly gripped by the chin, fingernails digging in his skin, he inhaled sharply. He heard rushed, mumbled words, a sharp tone, and a growl, before a hand grabbed onto his dripping erection and stroked it fluidly, the fingers curling around and squeezing at the head.

Francis writhed in his bindings, and the hand gripping his chin tightened. The sensual strokes lasted another five, until he was let go. When the hands left, Francis whined and shifted over the vibrating seat, trying to angle himself so his penis would be touched by the vibrations, but only his balls were giving stimulation. He wanted to orgasm even more now.

Suddenly, fingers were touching his ears, and the ear plugs were taken out. First, he heard the hum of the vibrator seat, and then hands gripped his hair and he heard shifting.

"You're so sexy, Francis. I want to make you come_ now_, but then again, I want you to suffer. I want to make you feel pain, but I want you to feel pleasure. It's hard not to indulge myself. I want to see you writhe and hear you moan.", the fast whispers of Master was spoken into his ear. He arched his head a little in response, feeling his face flush, and arousal tighten in his gut.

"Do you?", he heard him breathe.

Francis hesitated. He thought for a moment. When he realized what he wanted, he spoke against the duct tape, and pulled at the ropes holding down his arms.

He was a little shocked when Master gently peeled off the duct tape. He almost never took the gags off in the middle of Sessions, so it must mean he wanted to know.

"I want to touch you and hear you moan, Master.", Francis gasped, trying both to breathe and speak simultaneously. The first thing he heard was silence, and then a shaky exhale. He felt one of the hands slide from his hair, down his cheek, to touch his wet lips. "You are making me consider things. If you wish to try something new, it's your decision. Do you want to pleasure me? When it is my job to pleasure you?"

Nodding eagerly as he sucked in gulp fulls of air, Francis whispered, "Yes." He heard the shift of clothing, and a thoughtful hum from above. There was shifting of cloth again, and a zip, and then Francis knew what was to come. He licked his lips. A hand rested on his head, stroking the hair, before angling his head upwards, and Francis opened his lips, stuck his tongue out, and waited.

His fingers flexed multiple times against the ropes as he waited for the heat. When the warm head of Arthur's cock rested on his tongue he tried to shift closer in his bindings, and instantly lapped his tongue against it, tasting the saltiness of it. Master let out a breathy exhale. A few shuffles, and then Francis could take the head in his mouth, hallowing his cheeks and sucking.

Master groaned lowly, and the hand on his head stroked lightly as Francis rubbed his tongue against the sensitive glands on the underside of his cock head. "God, so eager.", Master breathed, and then went silent again, and that was enough to make Francis whimper. He felt so degraded when he was in a Session, but it was to be expected.

Taking more into his mouth, Francis itched to use his hands to keep his erection steady, but it was a privilege to suck Master's cock alone, seeing as he was rarely given the opportunity. By the time Francis worked on getting the shaft wet (Master's penis was on his cheek when he licked at his ballsack, it was warm), Master was panting and shifting on his feet.

Taking his dripping head back into his mouth, Francis hummed around it, providing vibrations as he appreciated the taste of his Master. A stuttered moan emitted from above. Then he forced more into his mouth, hallowing his cheeks. He felt the warm shaft move against his inner cheeks and his tongue.

When his nose met the fabric of Master's waistcoat, his cock was down his throat, and Francis was swallowing around it. Master was trembling, his hand gripping onto locks of his hair. When Francis sucked harshly, and began to bob his head back and forth, his jaw began to ache. But he ignored the trivial discomfort as he sucked and repeatedly took his erection in his throat.

Master was gasping, the hand in his hair shaking slightly. Erotic, wet noises sounded, and it made Francis want to touch himself, but it was a wasted desire, seeing as he was neglected the privilege of his hands. But really, the vibrating coming from the machine he was sitting on helped.

"Oh _fuck,_ mm. I'm going to come.", Master breathed, and his hand moved from his head. Francis was disappointed when Master withdrew his cock from his mouth, and Francis was left to pant and hungrily lick his lips. Of course, Master was quick to orgasm.

He could make out the sound of Master touching himself – the wet strokes filling the silence, save for Master's panting and deep moans. Francis really should have expected it, but he still jumped slightly when the warm ropes of Master's ejaculation painted across his face. One landed on his lips, another hitting his chin and dripping down into his lap. The rest clung to his cheeks. He instantly wiped the cum off his lips, tasting it and humming.

Then it was quiet. Even Master's panting ceased. Then the sound of (presumably) Master putting himself back in his pants started, following by zip. Soon enough, the nasty wet tape was smoothed back over his lips. Not even a thank you kiss? Not to mention the semen drying on his face felt uncomfortable, but really, Francis should be accustomed to it.

Strangely, he left the ear plugs out.

He heard the evident footsteps, the clatter of something, and then the footsteps returning. Suddenly, he heard those familiar whips of the air. The whooshing around him, the crack. He began to breathe heavily, his heart starting to accelerate. Master was teasing him. Circling him, cracking the whip.

When the first strike hit against his chest, Francis gasped sharply, and made a weak groan, his shoulders tensing. The multiple strips of leather hitting his skin left a stinging sensation. When they returned, snapping against the flesh of his tender thigh, Francis cried out, throwing his head back a little bit, but held still, focusing on remaining docile. He exhaled a shaky breath from his nose.

The vibrating seat didn't help, it was beginning to grow uncomfortable. Now, Master was just plainly torturing him. Why? Hadn't he given Master pleasure? Why wasn't he returning the favor? But then he realized that was foolish to wonder. Master had nothing to give. He could take and take as much as he liked.

The next strike against his back coaxed a surprised grunt from Francis. His back tensed up, afraid of more abuse. And without hesitation, the next punishment met his bicep, and then his other thigh, and then his chest again. Trembling and shaking now, Francis was breathing heavily through his mouth, his red, sore chest heaving as he fought for breath.

Suddenly, the leather of the whip was draped over his sore erection, fiddling with it as Master teased him. Francis clenched his hands against the rope and inhaled sharply through his nose. Master used the whip to give it a few light slaps, before it lightly hit against his inner thighs, and then Master gave a harsher strike to his cock, the leather biting the sensitive skin sharply. Francis whimpered, and wanted to close his legs, but the binds around his legs forced him down.

There was a loud clatter to his side, making him jump, before there was the stress of clothing, and he felt breath against his skin, but it was faint. Master was crouching before him. Francis let out a stuttered exhale from his nose.

When the warm, forgiving, relenting fingers curled around his abused erection, Francis let out another helpless, thankful whimper. It hurt a little bit when he began to stroke sensually, but the pleasure masked the sensitivity. It was only about a minute worth of stroking before Francis was moaning against the tape loudly, and he was trembling. Master was completely silent as Francis orgasmed, his ejaculation oozing down over Master's hand as he tugged his cock strongly, milking his cum out.

Giving it a few more strokes, Master then let go and stood. Letting out an unsteady breath, Francis shifted on his shins. His limbs ached, but it was a minor discomfort. Then the vibrating seat was turned off. Letting out an exhale of relief through his nose, Francis released the tension in his shoulders and back and sagged a little bit. The lack of the uncomfortable tingling of the vibrations felt weird, and his thighs itched.

He heard footsteps, and the shift of fabric again. The footsteps returned to him, and then he felt cloth dabbing and wiping at his inner thighs, and on his stomach. Soft fingers met his cheek, and peeled his duct tape away, letting Francis gulp in a mouthful of fresher air. The cloth wiped his wet lips. With the saliva that had wet the cloth, Master gingerly cleared away the ejaculation from his cheeks and chin, his touch caring. And then a hand brushed his bangs away with a gentle caress.

"Well done.", he heard Master whisper, and Francis felt his heart clench with pride and adoration, reveling in his received praise.


End file.
